“Good question,” Ballard said.
She wanted to get rid of him so she could work these new thoughts.
“Thanks for coming out, Reno,” she said. “I’m going to go back in.”
“Anytime,” Reno said.
Ballard went back up to the front door, knocked, and then entered. Carpenter was sitting on the couch.
“He’s leaving and I’ll get out of your hair as well,” Ballard said. “Are you sure there’s no one I can call for you?”
“I’m sure,” Carpenter said. “I’ll be fine. I’m getting a second wind now.”
Ballard wasn’t sure what a ‘second wind’ could be considering the trauma that had occurred. Carpenter seemed to read her.
“I’m thinking about my father,” she said. “I don’t remember who said it but he always quoted some philosopher when I would skin my knee or have something bad happen. He’d say, if it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger. Something like that. And that’s what I’m feeling now. I’m alive, I survived, I’ll get stronger.”
Ballard didn’t respond for a moment. She took out another business card and put it down on a small table near the door.
“Good,” she said. “There are my numbers if you need me or think of anything else.”
“Okay,” Carpenter said.
“We’re going to get these guys. I’m sure of it.”
“I hope so.”
“Can you do something for me and then maybe we talk tomorrow?”
“I guess.”
“I’m going to send you a questionnaire. It’s called a Lambkin survey. It’s basically questions about your recent history of movements and interactions — both in person and on social media. There is a calendar to track your whereabouts that you will be asked to fill out as best as you can. I think it goes back sixty days but what you really want to focus on are the last two to three weeks. Every place that you can remember. These guys saw you at some point and some place. Maybe it was the coffee shop but maybe it was somewhere else.”
“God, I hope it wasn’t the shop. That’s awful.”
“I’m not saying it was. But we have to consider everything. Do you have a printer here?”
“Yes. It’s in a closet.”
“Well, if you could print out the survey and fill it in by hand, that would be best.”
“Why is it called a lamb-whatever-you-said?”
“It’s the name of the guy who put it together. He was the LAPD’s sex crime expert until he retired. It’s been updated with the social media aspects. Okay?”
“Send it to me.”
“As soon as I can. And I can come by tomorrow and go over it with you if you want. Or just pick it up once you’re finished.”
“I have to open tomorrow and probably will be there all day. But I’ll take it with me and fill it out when I can.”
“Are you sure you want to go in tomorrow?”
“Yes. It will help take my mind off things.”
“Okay. And I’m going to be in the neighborhood a little while longer. Just so you know, my car will be out front.”
“Are you telling the neighbors what happened to me?”
“No, I’m not. Actually, under California law I can’t anyway. I’m just saying there was a break-in in the neighborhood. That’s it.”
“They’ll probably know. They’ll figure it out.”
“Maybe not. But we want to catch these monsters, Cindy. I have to do my job, and maybe one of your neighbors saw something that can help.”
“I know, I know. Did anybody tell you they saw something?”
“So far, no. But I still have this end of the street to go.”
She pointed west.
“Good luck,” Carpenter said.
Ballard thanked her and left. She walked to the house next door. An old man answered, who proved to be no help, even revealing that he took out his hearing aids at night to sleep better. Ballard then crossed the street and talked to another man, who said he saw nothing but provided a helpful piece of information when asked what he heard.
“You being directly across from the garage across the street, do you ever hear when that goes up or down?” Ballard asked.
“All the F-ing time,” the man said. “I wish she’d oil those springs. They squawk like a parrot every time the door goes up.”
“And do you remember whether you heard it last night?”
“Yeah, I heard it.”